Springtime for Kitler
by CherryCuntea
Summary: This story was written for a horrible fan fiction contest about Ducktales, cat and somehow reanimating Hitler. Read at your own risk. I can't bloody believe this exists...there is a special guest at the ending however for those that dare.


Springtime for Kitler

-Cherry CTea

Author's note: NSFW! Although there are no lemons in this story there are very suggestible sexual scenes. Language and use of childhood characters that may haunt your dreams. Judging by this and the context of the title some even may find this offensive. Even I am offended and I wrote this piece! Read at your own risk. If you actually make it through it please do not send me messages complaining to me about the content. I did give you the option to back out while you had the chance.

"Ha!" His thick Scottish accent rolled off his beak. Lightning streaked across the sky, thunder roaring as his quaking, white feathered hand slammed down the phone. "I'll show them. Aye, I'll show them just who has the greatest riches this side of the whole ducking world! Scrooge McDuck's name will be infamous!" A maniacal grin slipped across his face as he waddled around his strong oak desk centered in the large library and study. Books lined the walls, floor to ceiling as a plethora of titles from _Quacktopia to Platopus' Poetics_. What was rare, valuable, full of knowledge existed within these walls. However it was _Frankenfowl _ by Mary Seagull that stroked this wealthy duck's fancy. The idea to reanimate the dead; to have control over life itself was the rarest possession to acquire of all. If Scrooge McDuck could attempt this, then truly he would hold all the wealth within the world However it was more than monetary value. There was a deep, throbbing desire lurking within this old Scottish duck.

Fire place looming; stone statues of demonic geese protruding from the columns as he leaned over. Vibrant warmth from the hearth ruffled his feathers. In hand a copy of _Mein Kemp_ clutched against his chest. A shiver rolled up his spines as the mere thoughts of the events which were about to unfold took hold. The idea had come to Scrooge once upon a dream. One hell bent night after whisky and the completion of the Seagull book. He had everything he could ever want. Money, men and women for those lonely hard nights, rare objects from across the globe.

"Soon you will be mine." His voice whispered into the fire, the flames' glare reflecting off the tiny spectacles home to the end of his beak as his sighed in deep contemplation. Turning he opened up a brief case thrust upon his desk. A gleaming smile as the book seemed to glow. Tomorrow would be the beginning of the rest of his life.

It was in the cool hours of the morning, the rays of sunlight penetrating through the clouds of Duckberg. Roaring engines of planes, brief case in hand in hand Scrooge looked around the run way of Duckberg International Airport, his nephews Huey, Dewey and Louie were on holiday with their Uncle Donald. One less pain. He treasured his nephews but this was an excursion not safe for work. As his feet hammered against the pavement, approaching the giant steps of the plane towards his destiny a shrill deep voice penetrated his ears.

"Hey Mister D!" a slight off Bronx accent greeted him.

As he turned his wondering eye captured Launchpad, tall, strong Pelican, dim in the head but a kind heart with a hard prick that often plunged deep into his…They had their moments. A young thing for Scrooge to plunder. He always made sure he kept his pilot's hat on.

"Hello Launchpad!" Scrooge grinned eyeing him up and down.

Boarding the plane the two meandered their way through the first class seating. Wider aisles, bigger seats for the gentleman with the bigger ass and wallet to afford the high mile club comforts. Scrooge smiled as he looked at the empty seats that lined the aisles. He bought out the Brazilian airline several weeks before. A few swan like stewardesses and stewards closed opened compartments, flipped up tables as the duo made their way down the aisle.

"Are we prepared for take off?" Scrooge asked turning his head slightly towards Launchpad, licking his lips slightly' he was eager for another tryst in the bathroom, however he needed his pilot elsewhere.

"Oh right—" he stopped in the middle of the aisle unbuckling his trousers.

"Not that!" Scrooge growled although at this point he was more than tempted to halt proceedings, "The flight dunderduck!"

"Oh right!" Adjusting himself and his oncoming erection Launchpad nodded eagerly with a salute, "Fueled and engines checked out. Where to Mister D?"

"Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. I'm following through with an important investment." He grinned.

"Aye aye Mister D!" Launchpad tripped over himself as he made his way to the cockpit. Nestling down in his chair, Scrooge clutched his bag against his down chest. Closing his eyes he breathed softly allowing the hum of the plane to rock him into a gentle slumber.

Mustached lips pressed against beak. Moaning sounds as flesh met feather. The quaking moans as Scrooge could feel his body overheating. The pools of his eyes expanding out into wading pleasure as German charms lured him in further and further., "Mein Fuhrer" he whispered, feeling teeth against his stretching neck. A hazy brown eyed grin gazed at him as suddenly he felt his head slam against the wall. Leaping forward he grabbed his head, his glasses falling to the floor as the plane shook.

"What the duck?!" Scrooge growled as he looked towards the window. Vision blurred he could only make out a thin cloud layer dispersing as the plane glided through. Nose down, tail up, wafting its way down towards the surly bonds of Earth. Scrooge blindly felt for his spectacles, trying to tame the rising snake from his overbearing dream. A crackle sounded, high pitched shriek over the intercom as he placed his eyes over his beak.

"Good evening passengers-" the crackle of the pa system croaked, "This is your pilot Launchpad speaking. We have arrived at your final destination, Rio Di Janero. Please buckle and place all trays away. And everyone it may be a bumpy landing-ggzzzttt." The intercom buzzed out.

Scrooge looked around the aisles. The dark empty languid seats staring back at him. Rolling his eyes he fastened his safety belt as the plane began its descent. He would punish Launchpad harshly later. He chuckled to himself stroking his chin at the mere thought as he glanced over at his briefcase. Indeed there may be another involved for such misery.

The legs emerged, slow winding gears of the plane grinding away, the winds streaming against the current of the air, balance and control as the pilot throttled away in the cockpit. Rubber wheels penetrating the asphalt of the runway. Friction rolling through as the plane screeched to a halt.

The door flew open as a staircase was placed next to the plane. Flying out the door with his head held high beneath the blazing setting sun, his hips a sway as he waddled down the steps one foot step at a time. Tantalizing grin across his beak as he neared the limousine waiting for him.

"Mr. McDuck, sir?" A tall dog like creature spoke, eyes closed with a stiff upper lip. His British accent of years of service to the McDuck household rearing through, that of a dedicated servant. An outstretched hand and slight bow as he opened the door for the multimillionaire duck.

"Aye to the laboratory Jeeves." He smirked as gracefully took his seat in the back of the limousine. However, before the door could diligently shut, a hand followed by a loud thud pounded against the door.

"Almost forgot me Mister D!" And excited Launchpad gleefully plopped down next to Scrooge.

Several annoyed grunts later, chugging from a disclosed flask Scrooge wiped the back of his beak as he existed the limousine. In front of him, the brilliant hues of the pink and red sun stormed the horizon. Beaming against a tall secure structure of Genco Laboratories. The looming building was an investment and acquisition from a one night's feathered bang extraordinaire. A former pharmaceutical company from a family that was addicted to the knife, with a pulsating touch he had secured the stronghold to which he would perform his hellish work.

Gulping a last swig he placed his flask discretely away. The hard liquor buzzing around his head, webbed feet carrying on a steady stride as he and Launchpad entered the corporation.

"Down, down, down….'jus a bit farther, Aye-yes that's it just take it slow-"

"Mister D, you know it would go quicker if-" Launchpad grunted lifting a stack of boxes as they meandered down a spiral staircase. The gears in Scrooge's head turning, his long determined plans coming to fruition. Strong metal doors swooped opened as they entered into the belly of the underworld of scientific exploits. Fluorescent lights beamed down from the ceiling, cavernous scientific wonders penetrated the Brazilian pharmaceutical company. Test tubes littered cold steel tables, mounds of paperwork with quadratic chemic equations sewn through.

Dropping the boxes on the floor Launchpad wiped the back of his head with his hand. Sweat protruding down as he looked around. Scrooge regally stood in place drinking in the scientific wonder and marvel. Experiments on Bunson burners smoked to life. Bubble, bubble toil and trouble the key to life, the universe and the fund invested in such a life brewing experiment. He grinned satisfied at his investment. His gaze and marvel were interrupted by an abrupt sound. Commotion brewing amongst the clouds of multicolored chemicals.

"Where the quack?!" A strong German accent shook the walls as the sounds of a small explosions erupted into the air, "Ahhh,, shhooo maybe not mixing magnesium sulfate with the oxidized iron of the-where is my sandwich?!" The voice coughed as Scrooge and Launchpad made their way through the laboratory.

"Launchpad, I hired the most apt mind for this project, the strangest duck money could buy, Professor Ludwig VonDrake," crossing his arms Scrooge smirked gleefully. He had done his research. Read many books. Spoken with high level scientists within the community and most were horrified by what Scrooge had planned. When offering money others would have none of it. However, there was one whisper of a duck who dove to the depths of hell for scientific exploration. Money was not the issue. It was all about the experiment! And here he could do his work without judgment.

"Yes! Yes! What is it?!" Greyed with smoke, a former white duck's face popped around the corner of a stack of papers. Wild grey hair flying from the roundness of his head, eyes erratic with theories, starring at Scrooge he beamed as he stood straight up, "Ah ha! Ze benefactor! Yes! Herr Mc Duck I presume!" he stepped forward towards the duo. The two had never directly met. Only corresponding through email and messengers.

Scrooge grinned smugly nodding as he placed his hands inside of his jacket regally, head held high, "Aye Lad that would be I."

Adjusting his small wired spectacles VonDrake beamed, "I have been hard at work Herr McDuck. After the location of the body it was quite easy to tap into the force of-"

Scrooge held up his hand, "Curse me kilts! I don't need to the know the details lad! Just take me to the finished product! I'm made of money you know and time is it!"

VonDrake opened his mouth before shutting it with a nod. A mad grin executed with a chuckle as he swayed his hips and began waddling to the back of the laboratory. Through the labyrinth of beakers, tweakers and lab experiments amuck. A few jars filled with formaldehyde containing the various bodily remains of eyes, hearts and-

"Is that a head?!" Launchpad quacked jumping slightly in the presence of a small elongated alien head in a jar.

"Ja! That's just Rufus. My former lab assistant. Lost his head when we're unloading Herr McDuck's investment." VonDrake spoke with a chuckle as he proceeded to a computer console. Typing in a few passwords the lights dimmed as a giant tank filled with a blue liquid emerged from the depths of the floor. Scrooge's eyes glistened as the container rose to the surface. Salivating at the thought of that shortened mustached dictator ruffling his feathers it was only as his thoughts began to drink in the intoxicating scene. Forced tongue tipped out over his beak, jaw dropping at the site, "Blow me bag pipes!"

Upon hearing this command Launchpad kneeled down before Scrooge, his mouth open as his hand began to glide up his kilt. Tearing his head away from the sight, rage flowing through the Scottish fowl he backhanded him. "Not now you sod!" Falling hard to the ground Launchpad looked up at Scrooge, rubbing his face.

Pointing to the tank, "What the bloody hell is that?!" Scrooge roared as the tank came to a full stop. Beneath of the seas of blue chemicals a black and white patched tail floated, following the arched upright torso of a furry form, arched hind legs, paws with claws, striking up the elongated neck. Short pink nose on a black and white patched face, closed wide eyes with pointed ears on top of the oval shaped head. And all the while distinctive black paths of fur below the nose almost like a short mustache.

"That's not the hairless ape Hitler! That's a bloody puss!" Scrooge grabbed VonDrake by his collar shaking him. Anger fueling through his system. His investment wasted by the likes of a stark raving mad scientist.

"He—Herrrzzz Mc Duck!" his voice trembled, "if you could pause the abuse momentarily I shall explain."

Scrooge quirked a brow as he released the mad quacker. His dark gaze rupturing as he took a swig from his flask openly.

"Back in 1945 as the red army conquered the already weakened Germany-" VonDrake nervously gazed at Scrooge who's foot pounded impatiently against the floor, his hand curving into a fist, "When Hitler was not looking he got hit by a rampaging tank! SPLAT!" He pounded his own fist into his own, "Nothing left of the Fuhrer, but his mind-" VonDrake cautiously touched Scrooge's head.

"I thought he committed suicide-" Scrooge bogged out.

"Bah!" the Professor clamoured, "Nothing but rumours from the governments! Just like area 51 being Justin Beaver's secret homing base. Not that dam can sing!"

"What up about—" Launchpad managed to squeak out as he stood.

"SHHH! Now it's time for the show!" VonDrake threw his hands up into the air as he raced over and pulled a lever with a maniacal cackle.

The lever flipped. The stage lit up. The surrounding lights dimmed. The void was calling as visible light shocked through the lifeless body of the cat inhabiting Hitler's mind. Scrooge looked on, his beak quenched with intrigue. VonDrake twisted knobs as a green fluorescent liquid filled through a maze of tube churning and working their way to the floating corpse.

"Ah! I remember doing the time warp." VonDrake cackled as he moved around the console.

Drinking those moments in Scrooge whisked his flask with a mischievous grin.

"And now just a jump to the left, a step to the right, here kitty kitty its springtime for Kitler!" VonDrake incanted as he punched a big, shiny red button. The cat body absorbed the green reanimation fluids, a shock treatment as his yellow eyes opened gazing around.

"It's alive! It's alive!" Scrooge roared over the thunderous machine producing science, "Aye! Now I know what it's like to be a peacock!" He laughed as he took Launchpad's shocked face into his hands and kissed his beak deeply.

The cat began moving in the liquid. Yowling as air bubbles protruded, ripping around in a make shift tidal pool. With another flip of a switch VonDrake began to drain the liquid. A door opened as the wet feline washed out onto the laboratory floor. Dropping Launchpad Scrooge rushed over to the cat. Crouching down as he cradles the body in his arms.

"Mein Fuhrer." Scrooge whispered as the cat spewed out bile with a soft purr.

"Uhhh-" The creature uttered.

VonDrake rushed over with a stethoscope taking in diagnostics, steady heart beats and breathing began to emerge. "Congratulations Herr McDuck! You have a Kitler!" He grinned.

Hitler began to move from Scrooge's arms, looking around frantically, "Ack! Where am I? Where is Ada? The reds!" He looked down at his paws in shock, "What the schnoodle noodle?!"

"You died lad. You died and I Scrooge McDuck have brought you back!" He smiled gleefully, "Granted not in the original form you are accustomed to. But this shall do you nicely." He tried to pet Hitler.

A movement from behind Hitler startled him. "Ack! What is that?!" His tail moved slightly of its own accord as he began turning in circles chasing the elongated furry object.

Launchpad chuckled, "Aww little Kittler is chasing his tail." He moved forward trying to pet him. With a swipe of a paw Hitler clawed at his feathered hand, blood emerging, "Ouch the dickens!"

Scrooge chuckled, "A feisty puss and he is all mine!"

Licking his paw with a purr Hitler snapped towards Scrooge, "You? I have you to thank for this monstrous reanimation?" He purred leaning towards him. Gulping with a slight blush Scrooge nodded as Hitler leaned in towards him with a seductive purr, "And I am yours?"

Scrooge could only nod as he felt himself harden. Desire fueling him, "Aye my Fuhrer."

Hitler grinned before it began to melt away, with a furious swipe he scratched his eyes, "I am no one's!" He mewed ferociously. Rushing towards an area marked radioactive jet packs he grabbed one attaching it to his lean frame, "I live! The world will rue the day they tried to go against me and the motherland!"

Rockets roaring as all systems were go, igniting Hitler flew around the laboratory without control. Destruction following in his wake. Glass shattering as he chaotically crashed, bouncing hither and fro. Frantically mewing as Scrooge clutched his blood soaked face. Launchpad only cowered while VonDrake attempted to chase the feline.

"No! Not the head of Thomas!" VonDrake cried out as Hitler rammed straight into the floating head knocking the jar down. The head rolling across the ground towards Scrooge.

"Capture him!" Scrooge roared blindly.

The jet pack roasted behind, smoke fuming as the Bunsen burners set the creation station ablaze. Hitler rose higher and higher crashing through the ceiling. Rubble falling all around as the smoke followed suite. Launchpad cradled Scrooge who blurrily look up at his disappearing investment, his longing, his everything, "What have I done?" He sobbed into Launchpad's arms, "What have I done?"

Outside amongst the dusk streets of Rio de Janeiro the night life was awakening. Drunken exploits of foreigners on the hunt for drink and exotic rapture. A duck strode through, sunglasses plastered over his eyes, a carnivorous grin puffing on his cigar as he twisted it in his mouth. An explosion ruptured the street party as he looked up seeing an object coursing through the skies from the smoking inferno, mewling a sharp cackle.

"Fuck." His deep voice groaned. Taking out his mobile he pressed in a specific code, " Yeah its Howard. Got a live fucker in Brazil. Tch. Shit it was my holiday. Fine on my way. Bring in the clean-up crew." Hanging up he took a swig of his beer as he began to meander towards the smoke.

The smoke lifting higher into the air, dispersing amongst the atmosphere tailing out small shapes and sizes, lettering emerging, _To be continued._


End file.
